


Morning Glory

by katy15307



Series: (What's the Story) Morning Glory? 1995 [9]
Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Cocaine, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katy15307/pseuds/katy15307





	Morning Glory

I woke up in a bed. Good start, more often than not it’s someone’s settee or their floor. I looked around and realised it was my own room, not a hospital, not some lads, my own bedroom, my own bed.  
I didn’t stay under the duvet long, I had to get up and get out the house, fast. I felt sweaty, I felt shaky, I was in need.  
I’d slept in a thick jumper, apparently all I’d done was kick off my shoes and my jeans. I pulled all of the clothes I slept in off and found fresh ones. I’d stay in these but my parents might start asking questions. One of the benefits of never moving from my parents’, they still did everything a parent usually does. Fresh underwear, t-shirt, jogging bottoms and a hoodie, I couldn’t see my trainers, I must have left them elsewhere. I pulled the hood over I was ready to leave for the day. No time to shower or any of that nonsense.  
Mam was in the kitchen listening to the radio, making her lunch. I didn’t know why I even went in the kitchen, knowing it would just slow me down and my shoes definitely weren’t in there. She was dressed nicely and everything even though it was her day off.  
“What time d’you call this then?” she asked in a jokingly judgemental tone.  
I didn’t know what day it was never mind what time it was. “Erm morning?” I answered with a shrug.  
“Have you heard this?” she asked, nodding towards the radio. “Terrible, in’t it?”  
It was banging on about how some lad; Noel Gallagher had defended that Brian Harvey from East 17 for doing like seventeen Es in one night or something. He’d apparently tried to convince those toffs that run the country that we all do drugs, he thinks it’s about the same as drinking tea so stop kicking up a fuss. I’d agree but I don’t drink that much tea.  
I kept up with popular culture just enough to have heard about this, I knew a few songs of Britpop but my crowd mostly prefer stuff we already know, familiarity.  
“Yeah, terrible, Mam.” I agreed.  
He wanted congratulating if he had really done that many Es and made it through the night still alive, not condemning as they were all trying to do. Plus that Noel, I was glad someone was willing to tell the truth.  
“Are you having breakfast?”  
“I’ll buy summat from the shop.” I lied, I didn’t have time for food either.  
“I can make you something.” she offered.  
“No thanks. I’ve got an appointment, I’m gonna be late.”  
She turned and looked at me, ready to give some excited speech about being proud of me, assuming I meant a job interview or something.  
“You’re not going out like that, are you?” she asked. “Who’s gonna offer you a job when you look homeless?”  
I was on the dole and she was still under the illusion that I went out everyday job hunting, I never had done, there was nothing to hunt, no point. Plus a job would just get in the way of my hobbies.  
“Yeah.” I wasn’t insulted, I was way beyond caring about myself or how anyone thought about me to care that even my own mother thought I looked like I did. “It’s raining.”  
I didn’t have a clue if it was bright, red hot sun or freezing, ice and snow outside but raining was a pretty good guess, it does, a lot. I hoped it was, I prefered the rain and Ton’ might just take pity on me if I turned up soaked.  
“D’you want some money?” she asked as she got up and found her purse, it wasn’t a question, she always meant here, have some money. “Will a tenner do you?”  
I hadn’t thought to look how much money I had on me, that would have been awkward, turning up with no payment.  
“Yeah, thanks Mum.” I smiled and took the note from her. “D’you know where my trainers are?”  
“By the door.”  
I went back upstairs and routed through yesterday’s clothes. I had another tenner and some pound coins already as well as very importantly a packet of white stuff; it was always great when I started the day with the stuff.  
“Bye, Mam.” I called as I put my trainers on, ready to bolt out the door.  
“Will you be home for tea today?”  
“Don’t think so, I’m gonna keep asking around bars and that.”  
I heard her walking towards me so I got out the door and walked off as fast as I could to avoid any more conversation. I walked towards town, heading to my mate’s house. I didn’t like bullshitting to her all the time but she didn’t have a clue what I did and it had to stay that way.  
There was no rain in the air, not even clouds. The sunlight burnt my eyes. I tried to block out the light with my hood and watch the pavement go by below my feet.  
For some reason I started thinking about that Noel lad. I didn’t know much about him, I didn’t know many of his songs but I knew he was outspoken. We were the same really, chained to the mirror and the razorblade, only difference was I couldn’t play guitar or pass other people’s songs off as my own. He was right, those who didn’t touch drugs thought it was a dark, seedy thing to be involved in, those who did knew loads more people did it than you’d think.  
They, everyone trying to lay down their laws didn’t have a clue, they didn’t know about ordinary life and they didn’t know anything at all about us users. Think we’re all the same, tar us all with the same brush, want us all imprisoned and out of their fucking way when we’ve done nothing wrong. They don’t mind alcoholics cos alcohol is legal but they’re worse than us stuck with the illegal.  
I wondered how happy they’d be to know they paid me every week to do coke, what else was there for me to spend my dole money on. If I didn’t have my little habit, I’d be a millionaire by now, or at least I’d have something in my bank worth mentioning. I’m lucky that my parents are in work, that I’m an only child and that they’re willing to pay for my living costs. People with my lifestyle get kicked out, they have to sofa surf or just learn to sleep on the concrete, I was lucky my parents just didn’t seem to notice my massive eyes, sweating, erratic behaviour and that, I guess I wasn’t home enough or they were in denial, refusing to put two and two together.  
Thinking about all that just reminded me of my powder and I couldn’t wait any longer. I nipped in a shop and went in their toilet cubicle. Most places heavily discouraged the public from using their facilities because of people like me but this one was one of the few where you could access it without asking, without the annoyance of them denying they had one or they didn’t have the key etc.  
Crouched down and emptied it straight onto the toilet lid, lined it with a card (my store card from Matalan that I’d never used and never would but still they made me sign up and I’d found a use for it) and snorted. I stood up and binned the package.  
I saw myself in the mirror for the first time today. I did look homeless, I looked rough like last night was a long one and all the other nights before that, too pale, eyes bloodshot, dilated, so dark around the eyes, hair, it was better off hidden under the hood, I didn’t see it often, I didn’t like the look so I walked out focusing on the sting in my nostril that would soon become the buzz I craved.  
Walking off again with determination, annoyed my mate lived the other side of town and astonished that I’d made it home from so far away in the state I woulda been in.  
Got there and knocked, stupidly going for a policeman’s knock. What was I trying to do, make him paranoid? I just wanted to be let in with some real urgency.  
“Ton’ it’s me!” I shouted through the letterbox and then used that as a knocker.  
“You fuckin’ bein’ chased by an axe or something?” he asked as he answered the door, no doubt checking the peephole first.  
“I missed you.”  
“Thought you were the pigs, thought I had five fucking seconds to fucking torch the place.” He said, letting his panic be known.  
“Sorry. I just need to be here. Now.” I said with urgency, he had to know the gravity of my situation.  
“You need more product.” He knew me so well.  
He was a smart dealer, took after his Dad. They never took anything themselves, every single ounce was for profit. Except his Dad got sent down for their business so now it’s just him.  
“You know I'm here for your company. I told him sweetly.  
He was a smart dealer” I told him sweetly.  
He just rolled his eyes and locked the door. He knew we were all acquaintances, customers and he strictly kept it that way. We walked into the livingroom.  
The room was dark as usual, curtains closed to protect our privacy and the fact that none of us could handle natural light anymore. The place was cold, Ton’ wasn’t going to waste money on heating to satisfy a load of druggies that don’t even notice, the only place with heat was the loft where he grew stuff. There were a few skagheads already in that eyes rolled back state, some I knew, others I didn’t. It was hard to know them when they just wanna lay back and forget the world. It’s not for me, I still needed the buzz of life.  
“What you after? Cook up?” Ton’ asked as I got comfy in the free armchair.  
“No, no, still don’t touch that shit.” I shook my head.  
He checked his watch. “What then, pills, weed, what?”  
I didn’t know what the time had to do with anything. “Said didn’t I? The company.”  
“Then fuck off elsewhere, this ain’t a daycare centre.” It was but only for those so out of their minds that they couldn’t go elsewhere, most bought and left. “I’m not here for a fucking chat.”  
“Yeah, well, neither am I!” I was getting ratty already, I didn’t care about him, I did but I was too into my habit to care.  
“Well, what then?” He asked impatiently.  
I shrugged, I just didn’t know, I just wanted to pass the hours. “Weed, have a joint with me.”  
Usually uppers were exclusively my thing, cocaine, amphetamine, methamphetamine, whatever was on offer. I claim to be fine, happy, upbeat but it’s all false, all from them.  
“I don’t get you, you’re not like them, one day I’ll notice they’ve died and kick them to the kerb, you could do shit and you just choose not to.” he commented as we exchanged money and my purchase.  
“Are you growing a conscience on me? What would your Dad say?” I questioned as I focused on rolling up.  
“Dunno, he’s been gone months… making dinner, want a sandwich?”  
“What?” I frowned at him. “No. I don’t want a sandwich. What d’you say?”  
“Look at you, when d’you eat last?” He tried to deflect, regretting the slip of his tongue.  
“Who the fuck cares?” I shrugged, I couldn’t care less for one, plus I’ll want to eat any junk I get my hands on soon anyway. “What d’you say about your Dad?”  
“It’s just me now, he got released months ago.” he answered quickly. “Sandwich or not?”  
I shook my head.  
He walked away and I smoked, deciding I couldn’t be arsed to press the matter. He was doing fine on his own while he was in prison and he was fine now he’s gone, it didn’t make a difference. He came back with two plates, putting one on the arm of my chair, I didn’t bother to object but I wasn’t going to touch it either.  
Someone tapped the letterbox. Ton’ answered and Sid, his cousin walked in. He always came in a storm, he wasn’t someone I was ever pleased to see.  
“Hey Babe. Great night last.” he grinned, it was always the same with him.  
I rolled my eyes. I hated him calling me Babe, I was nobody’s babe but every girl was his babe. He was such a dick, everything he did was led by his testosterone fueled, massive cock. Walked with it, talked with it, everything he ever did was decided by that member. Tosser.  
Ton’ didn’t like him much either, they were cousins, they were close but he was the person Ton’s Dad wished he’d had for a son, tough, no nonsense, taking whatever he wanted from life.  
He walked over and kissed me, forcing his tongue in my mouth, slipping the joint from my fingers to his while I was distracted.  
Ton’ looked so uncomfortable and I just frowned at Sid, pissed off that he was smoking my stuff but no one said anything about it, the smackheads were hardly going to stand up against the injustice.  
“What you doing here?” Ton’ asked as he sat back down and ate.  
“What’s this, a fucking picnic?” Sid asked, ignoring Ton’s question, he picked up my sandwich and ate it. “You’re going soft, mate.”  
“It’s bread and fucking meat, it’s hardly dinner.” Ton’ shrugged.  
“Wanna make some money, Babe?” Sid asked, groping his balls in his jeans.  
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket showing off his cash. He always had a wallet full, dealers like him always did. How else would they afford the designer gear, the flash sports cars and that?  
I nodded, it was best not to talk, keeping it non verbal was just about the same as not admitting what I was willing to do for my habit. I wasn’t a prostitute, nothing like that but I had nothing better to do, nothing else to give my attention to and if he was willing to pay for something he can get for free then I’d take every penny.  
It made me wonder how Noel bought before he got famous, how he made the money for it. How he kept up the fuckable lad act if he used as much as he said he did. Luckily Sid couldn’t care less what was going through my mind, who I was thinking of as long as I got the job done.  
He took my hand and lead me upstairs.


End file.
